Silent Witness
by WinterRepublic
Summary: You know what they say about the quiet ones. They oft tend to be the most dangerous of the crew. There was always something a little off about Harry. He never spoke a word. 'Just quiet' they said. Speech is such a corruptive tool...
1. I know something You don't know

_**Disclaimer: **__If JKR knew what I was doing with her characters, she'd smash my laptop and run over it thousands of times with a car before pouring tea all over it and laughing as it smoked in its untimely demise…_

**Title:** Silent Witness

**Beta: **N/A

**Art: **Not at the moment, no.

**Warnings: **Slash, **extreme child abuse**, torture, character death, trauma (recovery issues):: If **any** of this offends you, please **DO NOT** read this fic. If you continue ahead, I will not be responsible for your feelings or if you find anything offensive. I **WILL NOT** apologize to idiots who flame me because they don't read the warnings.

**Summary:** You know what they say about the quiet ones. They oft tend to be the most dangerous of the crew. There was always something a little off about Harry. Insanity, they said. He knew all of their secrets. He knew everything that would happen. He knew what would happen even when they didn't know themselves…and he never spoke a word.

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**x.X.x**

**_One: I know Something You Don't Know_**

**x.X.x**

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Heavy footsteps were heard making their way up the stairs inside the house of Privet Drive. A strange dragging noise accompanied the steps It sounded surreally close to that of a body being dragged across the floor. It couldn't be that, could it? No, this house was normal. Perhaps a bit too normal. The steps came to a stop outside the plain white wallpaper of the hallway. Behind this paper, was a door.

This door was average sized, but that's where the normal ended. Along the opposite edge from where the hinges were, hung large padlocks. Seven to be exact. Chains crisscrossed all along the front of the door, locks of every kind hanging from where the lines connected. The door, once a pristine white, was lined with age and wear beyond it's years. The edges were frayed and splintered, leaving no room to slip a hand underneath. A small flap was located at the bottom. Long enough for a bowel or small plate to barely fit through.

Inside this room was hardly a thing; a cot, sheet, pillow, lamp, small wardrobe and a window. A small shelf was located on the wall opposite the bed, which was tucked away in a corner. The wardrobe was located right next to the door and it hung slightly open to show the sparse clothing inside. The lamp, long ago broken, sat in the corner next to the bed. The room, extremely dark; the window bricked up. Underneath the window was a makeshift cage. The only incriminating evidence that would lead someone to believe an animal once lived inside was the midnight black feathers and specks of dried blood.

On the bed lay a small nest of spider webs and snake scales. A slithered trail of dark brown started in the cobweb nest and ended somewhere under the bed. There was no trace of a serpent anywhere, only soft hissing echoing in the empty room. A small comfort in a non-comforting hole.

Locks and chains clanked and grated as they were undone and the door flung open. There, the silhouette of a man stood. He was portly with a head full of blonde, graying hair. His arms, though meaty, had enough muscle to manhandle the small burden in his arms. At his feet lay the small burden. It was so small that laying flat as it was, it almost blended in with the outline of the floor. The man, reached down and grabbed the burden, a boy no bigger than an average seven year old, and tossed him inside.

The body met the floor with a crack. The man shut the door just as quickly as he opened it and the sound of the locks and chains being redone could be heard. The boy moved not a whit as he became intimately acquainted with the floor of his bedroom again. Blood pooled underneath his body. It was hard to tell where it was coming from as it had already soaked through the shirt on the boy. Pants weren't even required when one was so small.

Soft hissing once again echoed through the room, louder this time. A slender snake, about the size of a man's length in shoulders and arms, slithered from beneath the bed. The trail it made was bright red, the sticky substance leaking from a harsh line drawn on its back. The white scales shimmered softly as it made it's way to the unmoving lump on the floor.

Winding in the raven locks, the snake made its way across the expanse of body. As the snake slithered along, small cuts began to stitch close leaving nothing more than unmarred, pale flesh. The snake gently rested its head on the floor beneath one thin hand. It took only moments before the hand began to slowly stroke the cool scaly head.

**x.X.x**

Vernon was not a happy man.

If it weren't for that old man, who looked like he should have died several decades back, he'd never have taken in that freak of a nephew. Despite all of his misgivings, he was assured that nothing untoward would happen until the day they came to get him, but no, nothing happened as he said it would. Nothing happened like the note pinned to the baby said it would. Vernon was so angry the first time he saw this 'magic' happen. He nearly carved up the babe with the very pin used to hold the note in place. Throwing it into the cupboard under the stairs, he thought that his troubles were over.

Wrong.

The little runt was found in the nursery the next morning. Vernon was so angry he beat the child black and blue. He threw the child under the stairs, locked the door and threw away the key. As it grew older, more strange things began to happen. Petunia taught the boy never to say a word, and Vernon, being the man that he was, only backed the claim with powerful hits. Then it happened. Birds! Birds of all kinds began to accumulate in the trees near the house. Petunia even refused to go weed the garden in fear of all the snakes and cats gathering there. The boy didn't even say anything. Vernon had beat the child near death. The magic had to be gone by then, yes?

No.

The next day, the boy was as good as new. Vernon beat him within another inch of his life, snapping a few bones for good measure. The boy was fine the next day. He shipped the boy off to St. Brutus's only to have the wretched boy sent back, with grades far beyond measure to boot! Vernon stabbed him when he walked through the door. There was no sign of a wound the next morning. In a sudden thought, they institutionalized the boy. He was sent back saying that he should be in college with the knowledge he possessed. Vernon slashed his throat. The next morning, a line blending in with the boy's skin, was the only evidence to the matter.

Last night, Vernon throttled the boy with more force than he ought to. The boy had stopped moving. He never cried out, so that made his task easier, but this time, he may have finally done it. He found his nephew with not even a scratch the next morning. Long trails of dried blood led to the boy, under the bed, and back. Vernon tipped the wardrobe on him. He'd finally had it with the little cretin and done off with him.

A screech from below had Vernon locking up the door real quick, pulling down the wall paper to cover the door. He marched down the stairs, stopping halfway, staring at the people in the doorway. One was a severe looking woman, the other, a pale man with black hair to his shoulders. Both were tall and scary in their own right. They both wore flowing… robes. People he thought he'd never have to see again.

Wizards.

No. Vernon was not a happy man.

Petunia stood back in the family room, holding the spatula she was cooking with out in front of herself like a weapon. She had Dudley protectively behind her. Vernon growled.

"What do you want?!"

"We're here for Mr. Potter, there." the sever woman said, slight annoyance tainting her voice.

The tall black haired man just sneered. He mumbled something that could be interpreted into 'disgusting boy', but Vernon couldn't be sure.

"That's not Potter. That's my son."

Shock was written plainly on both faces. The severe looking woman placed a hand over her bosom and the man just looked on, incredulously. Disgust was in both gazes, though, relief was apparent in the woman's. The man recovered first.

"Where's Potter, Dursley?"

Vernon narrowed his eyes. Petunia attempted to cover Dudley from sight and screeched, "Who are you and what do you want with that wretched boy?"

"I am Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minerva McGonagall and this is Potions Master Severus Snape, a teacher at the institute." McGonagall recited.

"We're here to give that brat his letter." Severus snapped. He really didn't want to be in this muggle house longer than he needed to be. Potter had already ruined his dreadful summer by being spoiled. He didn't need it to get worse by having the little brat's family refusing to let him be seen. It was a lie, they were really here to check on the boy, but no one really had to tell the Dursleys that. It was none of their business anyway.

It did strike him as odd the way Petunia referred to her nephew. It also seemed that while the family didn't want them to see Potter, for the sake of not being seen, they didn't want him to be seen for reasons still unknown. They were showing signs of something akin to fear. His spy skills certainly came in handy at the most strange of times.

"He's dead."

It was said so quietly that if Severus had not been listening for an answer, he'd have missed it. Since Minerva was the closest to where the answer came, she heard it as well. It came from the portly boy standing behind his mother.

"What?" Minerva asked, lost. Both parents talked as if Potter was alive and here their son was, saying that he was dead.

Vernon's eye twitched.

Severus Snape wasn't a spy for nothing. He rewound the events in his head, starting from when they first arrived to the more than normal home. Birds. Birds of every species around decorated the trees nearby as well as the roof of the house. They all situated on a certain area of the roof, some spilling onto a jutting piece of wood which probably at one point would have been a window box. Then there were snakes. Hissing could be heard from the flower gardens around the front and sides of the house. Snakes were partly visible in the bushes as well if one knew how to look. Most of the snakes lay in a knotted mass below the place where the birds spilled over.

Snape's eyes glared up the staircase. Cats. Felines of every size, color and race shacked up on the Dursley's front porch. They sat upon the trashcan out in front and the railings. Magical cats of every caliber melted in and out of shadows, their eyes glowing from beneath the porch steps and bushes. It was strange. None of the animals attacked one another. Birds situated on shoulder of cats, snakes wound loosely on necks of birds, sitting quietly on the window sill outside. This even disturbed Minerva and she was a cat animagus.

"If he's dead," Snape began, "then you wouldn't mind showing me his room. You know, to pick up a few souvenirs for the Headmaster to confirm this and all."

Vernon visibly paled, "N-No… that's personal…"

Petunia swallowed thickly before she put on her front and brought tears to her eyes. She, with her husband, led Minerva into the kitchen to tell her their made-up sob story. Perhaps they would have taken him as well if he looked just as heartbroken as McGonagall.

He turned his attentions back to the rest of the house. All of it looked too normal to be incriminating. Then again, the normal that's too normal is the thing that isn't normal at all. He noticed the boy…Dudley was still there looking at him curiously.

"Did you know him? I didn't know him. Mum said he died when he was really small. Were you really gonna teach him…m-magic?"

Severus beat down the urge to roll his eyes and say something biting to the boy. Instead, he opted for a way to get some information, "Yes. I was friends with his mother."

One stray thought rolled around his head constantly. This boy, Dudley, didn't know his cousin existed. Apparently, Potter was dead since the beginning. Good riddance, Snape snorted.

Dudley pointed to the cupboard under the steps. "He used to sleep there, you know."

"Do you mind if I take a look?" Being nice to muggles was leaving a really bad taste in Severus's mouth.

"No." Dudley shook his head.

Snape eyed the door warily. He stepped up to the door that somehow felt oppressing to his senses. This couldn't really be a room, could it? Severus took a silent deep breath opened the door, and gagged. The room was covered in spiders that scattered the minute he opened the door. The room slowly gained color as they retreated to every corner, hiding until the door closed again. A familiar blue baby blanket bled into life, the spiders crawling beneath and into the folded crevices of the blanket.

Along the back wall, pictures, children-drawn pictures, hung down, held in place by a series of connected spider webs. Childish handwriting marked the floor boards closest to the back wall. The back wall looked like it a child had repeatedly scraped a word over and over again into it. If Snape looked closer, he could see fingernails splintering out of the bloody word. It spelled out the word, quite frighteningly clear: 'S-A-N-C-T-U-A-R-I-I' Blood splatters that were long ago faded into the walls, covered almost every inch of the room. Fresher blood was quickly being covered by the spiders' intricate webs.

Severus shut the door quickly. In his head, his own childhood coward back, no match for this. Behind him, Dudley looked curious. "Dad says that Harry died because he used to do such strange things. Said the spiders killed him. They put all his stuff in my second bedroom and locked it up."

Severus would have smiled if he was the type to do so.

"Second bedroom?"

Dudley nodded, "It's upstairs. There's only a wall there now."

"Can I see it?" Stupid child.

"Yeah, sure. Since it's only a wall, I don't see why we can't."

Dudley led Snape upstairs and down to the end of the hallway where the light didn't reach. He was right. It was only a wall. Severus reached forward and pushed on the 'wall.' The rustling beneath his hand gave way and he immediately balled it into a fist, ripping the paper away. The paper came down to reveal a door covered in padlocks and chains.

Behind him, Dudley was shaking now. Why, this wasn't a wall at all! Is this why his father had forbid him to enter this end of the hall? Is this really where his cousin slept? Was he really alive? His parents wouldn't lie, right…?

"Mummy!"

Footsteps were heard rushing upstairs from the kitchen. Minerva could be heard shouting off stunning spells. One thump could be heard and continued footsteps towards and up the stairs could be heard.

Vernon came up the stairs with a purpling face, "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU FREAK!"

In the next instant, Vernon was trying to wrestle his way out of magical binds. Snape pointed his wand at the door, "It seems something worth hiding is in here. Is this where you're keeping Potter?"

Minerva gasped, "Severus, you don't think…"

"_Alohamora_."

It took a total of five minutes for the quick unlocking spell to decipher through all of the locks; a total of five minutes that nearly drove the two magical folk into insanity with worry and fear.

Snape pushed on the door slightly, a soft click the only sound giving way that it had opened at all. Behind the spy, Minerva could be heard choking. The room smelled of rot and decay, like dead animals were rotting away; dead animals or…a human body. Severus cast a '_lumos_' and just as quickly put it out. On the floor lay a painfully thin boy no older than seven. Severus deduced this to be Potter, so apparently the boy was not seven in actuality.

Stains cover the room from the ceiling to the floor. Broken toys lay scattered in the corner covered in what looked like the remains of a bird. Childish writing covered the walls of this room as well. None of the words could be made out except a few. Words that made Severus' insides freeze with fear.

'_C-L-A-I-M S-A-N-C-T-U-A-R-I-I_'

Soft hissing, that could be interpreted into a lullaby, could be heard in the silent room. Snape approached the boy cautiously, checking his vitals. A faint heartbeat could be heard, but they were few and far in between. Severus shifted so that he would be able to pick up the boy, but changed his mind seconds later. He was too afraid of breaking the poor boy, not that he'd admit this out loud.

The hissed lullaby tapered off, the white snake slithering out from beneath the bed. The body of the slender snake came to rest on top of the boy's hip, its head beneath one thin hand. It took only moments before the hand began to stroke the smooth scaly head…

_x.X.x_

_**TBC**_

_x.X.x_


	2. And I'm Not Going to Tell You Pt I

x.X.x

_**And I'm Not Going to Tell You**_

x.X.x

"This is ridiculous, Albus! This boy is close to literally being dead on his feet! What could you possibly have been thinking to leave the boy in that kind of care? Lily would come back to life and skin you _alive_ if she knew!"

"The boy…yes…"

Dumbledore looked down at his little charge in the infirmary bed. He lay in the exact position as he was laid on the bed just hours before. His, although dirty, pale skin looked starchy against the sheets, almost blending in if not for the lines of shadow and areas of grime that marked the separation between the two. All the windows of the infirmary were pulled close and excruciatingly dim lights flooded the room, at least for those used to light at all. They feared that the boy may blind if they exposed him to anything brighter. Artificial or not.

Minerva sighed from her position near the head of the bed. She tucked the sheets tighter around the thin frame and winced at the hiss emitted somewhere close by. She jerked her hands away. "What are we going to tell the others, Albus? We can't have a, quite possibly, learning deficient child roaming Hogwarts without explanation."

The Headmaster looked towards the first woman who seemed bent on yelling at him. Poppy Pomfry was an excellent nurse. She cared much for the children brought into her domain, perhaps a bit too much at times, as she'll tend to forget who she speaks. Too bad Severus went to go fetch something for Poppy. If Severus were here, he'd get a kick out of it, probably.

"What's the most severe of his…injuries?"

"You know everything, Albus." Poppy glared, "He's running purely on magic! The poor boy doesn't even need food to run anymore, though that would be inadvisable in any situation. I don't even trust myself to hold his hand without breaking every bone within!"

Dumbledore nodded. Looking again over his charge he frowned. Surely it couldn't be possible that this child ran on naught but magic. No child had the magical capacity to pull off such a feat. Yes, he concluded, one's magic will take over anything that the body could not continue any further in an attempt to save its vessel. This was widely known as to the reasons that magical folk were not susceptible to muggle diseases and failures. It also marks down as a reason that they live for so long. Children specifically have the ability to work directly with their magical core and train it as they are still young and therefore more innate to them, thus accidental magic occurs. They have no control over the output of magic. When they get a wand, it is used to control the output and thus training a child to use their magic in portions. This is why parents begin to teach their children at the age of five. The better the control, the easier it is to master magic.

What should not happen though is the magic releasing all at once in an uncontrolled manner. This usually occurs during times of extreme damage, when one's body is failing in some way or another. Only fully grown wizards should be able to accomplish such a feat. Mediwizards, without doubt. If what Madame Pomfry says indeed has fact, then the boy should be dead. A body so young should not be able to sustain the magic all at once. It would be like trying to work a 20watt dead body with 100watts into existence again.

He left before Harry woke up.

x.X.x

Severus entered the infirmary later that night to Pomfry's soft pleas to 'come out from under the bed' and soft hissing. It was the same hissed lullaby he heard the day he got Potter from that wretched muggle home. The sound wasn't scary or anything, but it did send an occasional shiver down one's spine.

He rounded the corner into a curtained off area. Pushing the curtain aside he stepped into a scene he never thought he'd see: Poppy on the floor, trying to coax a patient to do something. It seems that for all her experience, nothing could prepare her for this. She looked so out of place on the floor, and very unprofessional.

"Poppy…?"

Madame Pomfry's head popped up over the side of the bed. "Oh, Severus! Thank heavens you're here. I can't seem to get the young lad from under the bed. Do you have the mild Calming Draught I asked for?"

Severus snorted, "Yes, right here."

"Well…" Poppy stood and dusted herself off.

Snape watched her as she took the bottle and poured it over the food on a nearby table. Casting a warming spell, she let it mix and melt with the warming food, the foods' smell dominating the potion. She turned to go.

"Good luck."

"_Excuse me_?" Snape faulted, "You can't be serious."

Poppy eyed him, "Well, I can't stand here and try to coax him out all night. I have other patients to tend to. His vitals are standing at a good right now and I'm not sure how long that will last." She looked at the food, "Either this will work or it won't. I even tried to lace the water he drank with the normal Calming Draught. I don't know what else I can do to help him."

"I can't even talk to a first year without making him cry, what do you think I can do here?" Severus griped.

"Well, that is no ordinary first year for you." Madame Pomfry smiled benignly at the bed.

Severus turned back to the empty bed as Pomfry left. The snake curled up on the pillow had fallen silent. It stared at him with it's' bead black eyes and the strangest thought crossed his mind: Severus felt like the snake was judging him. He could literally feel the eyes of the cold-blooded reptile laying his soul open and picking it bare. It wasn't a very unpleasant feeling. It felt like the total opposite of when the Dark Lord decides he wants to pick apart your soul.

He must have passed the examination since the snake decided to turn away at the exact moment he barked out, "Potter!"

It felt like the boy was watching him through the eyes of this snake. In a way, it was kind of creepy. He expected something of this caliber from someone like the boy-who-lived, not one who would be overshadowed. This boy, Potter, had a distinct role in his coming years but none that would be safe. He was like a shield for the true boy-who-lived, Neville.

Severus wasn't sure he was comfortable with that.

Sighing in frustration, Snape marched his way over to the other bed. Placing a hand on the sheets, he kneeled down to peer underneath. He came face to face with shining green eyes. Snape bit his tongue in a vain measure not to cry out in shock. The overall effect made him look as if he had bitten into something unpleasant. To any other student, this probably would not be a new look, but to a child who has never seen Severus before, it can be quite scary.

Harry backed further along under the bed.

If Snape was the only one in the infirmary, he probably would have used a summoning charm on the boy. Unfortunately, Madame Pomfry was bustling about around the corner. She had the ears of a bat in the medical domain. He looked over his shoulder to see Madame Pomfry duck back around the corner. Great. Now he'll never hear the end of it at staff meetings, and, quite possibly, school meal times.

Severus stood… to find that Harry had removed his person from the floor and now sat upon the chair next to the bed he had lay in. The plate of food sat before him, but he made no move to eat it in any such way. The snake, they really needed to get rid of the thing, had slithered up and onto the boy's shoulders. It lowered itself until it was mere centimeters from the plate and stuck out its almost translucent tongue out to taste the food on it. Snape suppressed the urge to make a face. This wasn't even the boy-who-lived and here he was, already, caring for a pain of a child.

He couldn't really say he hated the boy; not after what he had already been through at such a young age. He was younger than Severus when he had begun to be abused. It was nerve-wracking to watch the boy just accept all the abuse thrown his way. Even though it was Potter's child, the boy never got to know his father and here he was with abusive training ingrained into what seemed like his very DNA. Oh, yes. It was nerve-wracking.

x.X.x

He was small…about the size of the average seven-year-old. This was good progress despite the horrible treatment because in actuality, the boy was eight. It was probably his magic trying to cope with the lack of nutrients going to the body. This would be his first year interacting with the general student populace and sit in with classes instead of the infirmary; maybe. He seemed to have taken a liking to Poppy. Black layered hair reached thin shoulders and glittered a violet color in the light. It was a boyish cut that made him look cute. He was skinny, almost to the point that Poppy feared he was anorexic, but he ate so that was eliminated. He had thin hands and fingers, large green almond eyes and elegant metal frames that lined them. His forehead was unmarred; his skin as pale as the early morning sky.

Poppy watched Harry mix the potions as she had told him. His hand was very precise, just like someone else she knew. She turned, began shelving potions and taking inventory for the next year. Too bad Severus didn't like Harry, he could have been great help to the man; A protégée in the making.

After releasing Harry from the infirmary, it was taken into account that the boy did not speak. It wasn't that he couldn't, he just didn't. There was nothing wrong with his larynx, throat or voice box; it was just that the boy didn't talk. Perhaps it was a belated trauma or something his relatives had taught him that he had yet to grow out of. After all, the events of his relatives were too recent to forget thus quickly.

Another thing that had been dually noted was the albino snake. They had no idea of the species or necessities; just that it had perhaps originated from the boy's magic for it had the thrum of magic zinging through its very being. Despite the creature being a snake, it was gentle and kind…not that they had found this out the easy way. In fact, the snake had seemed to be exhibiting emotions that Harry himself seemed incapable of at times. Or at least Poppy thought so, maybe because she had spent so much time with Harry. The staff decided to keep a distance of the snake anyway. They had dubbed it with the name 'Winter'. It seemed appropriate. More so than 'Summer', anyway.

Madame Pomfry shelved the last potion and turned to find Harry watching her. This was something that she'd never get past: The way Harry just watches people. It was like he saw something that others did not. Seeing instead something that, perhaps, _would_ happen. In the past month, it had occurred to Poppy that maybe Harry was a _Seer_. Sometimes, she could almost swear that Harry knew something was going to happen before they did. One instance she knew for sure was when Snape had come to the infirmary because of a ruined potion. Prior to this, Harry had begun pulling ingredients for a mild Healing Potion. It was just the thing Severus had come for. The strange thing about the whole thing was that the Potters didn't have this ability in their bloodline; hidden or otherwise. Lily was a muggleborn through and through.

Poppy smiled. "All done? Well, let's go get some dinner while it cools."

Poppy stepped down from her stool and took Harry's hands. They went towards the nurses' station to the sink. Poppy helped Harry onto the stool there and stood on the other side of him. She turned the tap and began to lather her hands. Gently taking Harry's in her own, she lathered his as well. Rinsing away the soap, she cast a small drying charm and helped Harry down. She exchanged his potions robe for a regular set of robes. Taking his hand, she led them both down to the Great Hall.

The teachers all pretended to mind their own business on any other night, but tonight was special. It was the last night before the students arrived. All eyes were on the table, but their attention was on Harry and Madame Pomfry. Poppy had moved to settle Harry into a chair on the opposite side of the table as the other teachers. A quick escape if Severus ever saw one. Poppy took her seat next to Harry.

Harry still didn't eat as much as a normal child, nor as much as Severus on a daily basis, but it was enough that Pomfry decided to leave him alone with what he ate. At dinner, she prepared a small plate for Harry, knowing that he probably wouldn't even eat half. It worried her that soon Harry would be among the general student populace. She knew for a fact that he still couldn't handle big crowds and that the only reason he could be around the maximum of two teachers in a small space was because he had months to get used to them.

All through dinner, Harry stared at Snape. It wasn't an intruding stare, more like an inquisitive one. The teachers were talking about the new school year would entail and what they were going to do with Harry. They didn't want to force him on one teacher alone because he couldn't stand anyone for more than 5 hours straight other than Poppy; he could spend the whole day with her. It was difficult to get the boy to do anything really. They didn't know the limit on Snape because the man refused to spend time with the boy.

"He needs to be kept busy."

"But you've got to remember Minerva: He's not a normal boy. He can sit still for hours just reading a book."

"He also can't stay with any one teacher for more than 5 hours."

"Two, actually. He gets restless after two."

"He's content in the greenhouses."

"But what about when you have class?"

"He likes the library."

"Too many children. Older ones at that."

"Yes, and Madame Pince wouldn't be able to keep an eye on him _and_ the other children."

"What about the kitchen? The elves don't mind him. They like him."

"What would he do down there?"

"Work."

"Absolutely not!"

"Let him stay with Poppy. The boy likes her."

"Ah, perhaps. But maybe he can stay with you as well, Severus."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Yes. He can sit in one of the most dangerous classrooms of the school."

"Are you _mad_?"

"I **refuse** to look after that whelp."

"Come now Severus. Poppy?"

"_Great idea, Albus_; I'll just hand my ward over to the scariest teacher in the school. That should keep him calm."

"But you're too busy to have a child in the hospital wing all day."

"Nonsense. And until you figure something out, that is where he will stay."

Poppy tossed down her napkin and stood. She gently helped Harry from his seat and took his hand, leading them from the table.

x.X.x

End Part I

x.X.x

**A/N:**

Yeah. This is super late. I had so many issues for anything to run anything properly. Don't you hate it when something goes wrong and it starts this chain of events that you'd never expect but knew would be horrible and ruin you? Well, I never got that feeling until it happened to me. Two deaths, withdrawl, moving and saying goodbye... Sucks to be me right now, but oh well, bad hings happen. I just hate when they happen in a bulk. Ugh.

This was a pretty uneventful chapter but I promise, something exciting will happen in the next chapter. Please excuse any mistakes or jumps as I worked on every part in different times. Feel free to point out any mistakes or corrections that need to be made. Spelling and grammar should be alright as I had a wonderful American gentleman help me with it at the aeroport terminal. C:

So since I can't exactly do everything together, this chapter was divided into two parts. My LJ was updated before here, but I'will try to be consistant with this as I can. Thanks for all of you who are sticking with this. You make this writer very happy. \( ; w ; )/


	3. And I'm Not Going to Tell You Pt II

_**Disclaimer:** Are you serious?_

x.X.x

_**And I'm Not Going To Tell You :: Part II**_

x.X.x

The new school year had begun. Harry was tucked away in the infirmary with Poppy, preparing for the big event. He had turned nine in July and Poppy gave him some new books on Mediwizardry. He loved the books and read them often. His other gifts included: Moon Lilies from Professor Sprout, an advanced text on Charms from Professor Fletwick, a beautiful shawl from Professor McGonagall, a wonderful bestiary from Hagrid and some strange talking socks from Dumbledore. He kept them all close…except for the socks. He was still suspicious about what those were for.

Oddly enough Professor Snape gave him a beginners' book in Potions. He had written a note that came with it too. He couldn't understand what it said but was sure it said something about Madame Pomfry bullying him to get something for Harry. The matron just laughed and incendio'd the note, telling Harry that Snape had such a strange sense of humor.

Currently, he was stocking the last of the potions on their shelves. For the last week, he had been getting used to sitting between Poppy, whom he didn't mind, and Professor Sprout, whom he didn't mind all that much. She always smelled like fresh plants and earth. She had always looked dirty to Harry, but he had gotten used to the fact that she wore earthy colors and sometimes her beloved plants everywhere. Harry only tolerated her because unlike the other Professors, she was kindly soft spoken and she wore a comforting earth-brown robe instead of the required black or outrageous colors that Albus was so fond of.

Despite the unpleasant way Snape treated him, Harry found himself unexplainably attracted to the man as well. He was the biggest jerk Harry had the displeasure to meet, he sneered so much that it was probably a permanent fixture on the man's face and he was horrible with children! Credit was given where due because face it, Snape truly was a master of his art and beyond. He could brew you into the pits of hell and back again. It was such a shame that his skills didn't pour into teaching; such a waste of talent if you couldn't get someone to enjoy the art as much as yourself.

"Time to go down now, Harry." Poppy's voice broke through Harry's thoughts.

Harry put the last of the bottles on the shelf and stood, dusting off his knees. Winter slithered onto his shoulders and tucked itself into the collar of his shirt. Poppy took him to wash his hands then get appropriately dressed for the night. All of the students would be dressed in their school uniforms and Harry would just stick out if he didn't wear something similar. What he wore was similar and that's all for his robes were delicately lined with a soft white material, reminiscent of his matron's hospital gown.

Madame Pomfry nodded in approval at Harry's attire and took his hand so that they may walk down to the hall together. Along the way, they had run into a tower of student luggage and Poppy had released his hand so that she may open the teachers' entrance doors to the great hall and peek in to see if their seats were still available before they walked inside. The luggage all ranged in wear and tear and value. Harry noted some of the family crests and initials on the fronts of them. There were also some cages there that held owls and cats of many varieties. One owl in particular caught his eye. It was a golden brown bird with majestic smoky eyes that seemed to follow his every movement. He reached out to the cage, hearing the owl hoot softly. Winter hissed and shifted a bit under Harry's shirt.

"Harry?"

Pulling his hand back, Harry turned and made his way over to Poppy and the door. He froze when he passed the threshold. The room was packed! And that was definitely saying something because if he was right in determining the time the thirty or so first years hadn't even been sorted yet. Harry felt sick. He was prepared to bolt if not for the disappointment he was sure to see in Poppy's eyes if he had. Her hand was on his trembling shoulder and it was lightly pushing him into the room, but his feet stubbornly refused to move.

A disgusted sigh brought his attention up and away from the student crowd. Snape was looking at him with contempt. Harry didn't understand why, but he didn't want Snape to look at him that way. He didn't want to see disappointment in anyone's eyes, especially this man. He wasn't sure why it mattered so much, but it just did. Harry glared and swallowed thickly. He forced his foot to move forward. If he didn't move fast enough, people would begin to take notice.

Poppy frowned. She knew that Severus had some sort of affect on the boy, she just wasn't sure if it was good or bad. They often shared glaring contests but it was like the boy just refused to back down, purposely taking the bait Severus lay. She sighed and lifted Harry into her arms. Purposely kicking the leg of Snape's chair as she passed, she could feel that his glare was now directed somewhere in the crowd. Probably scaring some hapless first year.

After the remainder of the first years had been sorted, Dumbledore made his speech; the same one he made every year. It grew boring after a while and most of the staff learned to ignore the first few minutes before the meal was served. When the Headmaster finally took his seat, the food appeared on the table. The astonished gasps from the first years always made Poppy smile. It saddened her a bit that she'd never be able to hear something like that come from the boy sitting beside her. He never made a noise.

With another disgusted sigh, Severus watched Poppy place the customary plate of food in front of Potter. Sure, the boy had a hard run in with life, but they had gotten him out before anything majorly life-changing could happen. The boy had enough time to get over it and move on. It wasn't like he was still in that house. Being a former spy, Severus could see that there was something else though. He couldn't explain it, but it eerily reminded him of the Dark Lord before the ground breaking prophesy was whispered in the wind. His stare turned into a glare when he saw the albino snake appear from beneath the collar of the boy's shirt. Oh, yes. This boy was so fucking similar to the Dark Lord and it just had to be in more than one way too.

Snape didn't know why this bothered him so greatly. This wasn't the boy who lived and Dumbledore certainly wasn't bothering himself with the boy. Rather, he let Poppy dictate what happened to the boy and when. She had somewhat adopted the boy without actually doing so. The headmaster wasn't going to put forth any effort in the school adopting the boy and the Ministry didn't give a rat's ass over the boy…so why did the similarities between this boy and the Dark Lord bother him so much? Shouldn't he be focusing his efforts on the incoming boy who lived? How just like a Potter to have his attention for some inexplicable reason.

Harry ignored the eyes burning into him and stubbornly refused to eat the precious meal laid out before him by the kindly matron. Winter shifted beneath the collar of his robes and poked her pale head out. Her tongue flitted out briefly, tasting the air. A small tremor briefed her body and Harry lifted a hand to the table and placed it by his plate as Winter disappeared back into his shirt. A minute later, her head poked out of his sleeve and she tasted the food on the plate before she dug in. Harry smiled down at the snake. She was such a glutton. Too bad she never got fat. It would be amusing to see her that way before she shrunk a few days later.

Sighing, Harry tugged gently on Poppy's sleeve. The back of his neck tickled. There must be more than just Snape staring–glaring–at him. He looked up into the faces of the crowd. Shivering, his eyes landed on two students who sat on the far side of the room. Although he didn't wear glasses, his sight was sharp, but he couldn't make out the specific features on the boys' faces. He tugged on Poppy's sleeve again.

"Do you need to be excused?" Poppy asked. She looked down at him with concern evident in her eyes.

The boy pulled his eyes away from the two boys and nodded his head jerkily. Poppy looked at Harry's plate and frowned when she saw Winter's head slip back into his sleeve. She _really_ didn't want to let him go from the table without eating but she decided to let it go. Harry had a sort of sad look to his eyes. It would be barely noticeable to anyone else, but the small tightening around his eyes gave him away easily to her. She nodded and helped Harry from his chair.

Snape stared after the boy in suspicion. Harry almost ran from the room. He shut the teacher's entrance door and leaned against it heavily. Winter poked her head out of his collar and her tongue grazed his cheek in something similar to a kiss. Harry shook a little as a chill settled over him. Moving from the door, Harry turned down an empty corridor. It probably led to the student's entrance to the great hall, but he wasn't taking any chances.

He ran without looking back and sure enough he could hear larger and much heavier footsteps mimicking his path.

"Oh, lookie what we have here: a light child." Harry had run into a dead end.

"He looks a little flushed. Do you think he goes here?" His heart was pounding in his head. Winter hissed quietly at him.

"Doesn't look like it. But he could be a first year, you know, without a color yet?" Harry stubbornly faced the wall instead of his pursuers.

"He looks like he's in need of a little fun." Harry's heart slammed harder in his head. It felt like every pump sent his head lurching forward on his shoulders.

"Boy Wonder's probably confused." Yes. Yes he was. _Why were they being so cruel to him_?

"Well, we can fix that." Did they know that they had the _wrong_ "Boy Wonder"?

The first strike came from somewhere on the left. Harry was pretty sure that something had been disturbed in his body chemistry as his head swam. The hits that followed were impossible to discern as they seemed to bleed into one another. One powerful hit was all it took for Harry's little body to slam into the wall before himself. He fell to the stone floor with a dull thud that echoed in the corridor. The faces of his attackers swam in his vision. The only thing he could see was a blur of green and dark blue.

"He's not saying anything. Maybe he's mute?"

"All the better. Then the brat won't go blabbing anything."

The next thing was a foot that connected with Harry's side. He was pretty sure that something had snapped, but he couldn't be too sure with that internal pop he felt. It could just be gas…Harry moaned as the 'green' boy pulled out a smooth stick. It was a beautiful piece of dark wood that reminded Harry of Professor Sprout's wand. Pain flared through his limbs like electricity. In fact, that's exactly what it felt like: the time Petunia had him plug something into an outlet and Dudley threw some water at him. The outlet had sent out such angry sparks. This was far worse though. It felt like thousands of needles were having a joyride through his veins. His muscles began to seize up and he was pretty sure he had pulled something in his leg.

The pain doubled as the second boy pointed his stick at Harry. He couldn't hear the words that the boy had whispered and this scared him greatly. Something seemed to bubble deep in Harry's throat. Was it bile? He wouldn't be surprised if he threw up. His stomach was rolling like a ball on a steep hill. The feeling pushed tightly at Harry's throat, too much air at once. It felt like when he tried to talk for the first time. He knew never to try and talk ever again the moment Uncle Vernon's fist connected with his jaw. He was two.

Something ripped its way through his throat. To Harry, it felt just like air. In the distance he could hear someone screaming. Was that him?

Poppy danced anxiously in her seat. She felt uneasy about letting Harry go all alone. He knew where the infirmary ward was, but he didn't know the students that would now be loitering along the way. Anyway, he didn't leave her side except for those brief moments that he needed to be alone. He always came back. She looked down the table and gave Severus a significant glance. He stubbornly refused to look at her like Harry often did when he'd done something wrong. Falsely moving to pick up a roll, she sent a small shock towards the man with her wand. He glared at her.

"_What_?"

"Go check up on him. _Please_?" She added that almost as an afterthought.

"Why? Go do it yourself. The boy probably got lost or something."

"He never gets lost!" The matron said forcefully, "He knows his way around…I'm just afraid he might have run into trouble."

"Then you can go look by yourself. I don't have time to waste on that brat."

"You don't even _have_ anything to do!"

"Even better."

"Fine–!"

Poppy stood as soon as the door to the great hall opened. A scream ripped through the room and seemed to pierce the woman right through her heart. A few students had run inside, looking haggard, as if they had run a marathon to get there. The hall was in an uproar. The headmaster stood, his voice booming over the hall for silence. The students froze as he gave out commands to the Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl. Whatever order was had was lost the moment another scream pierced the quiet.

Severus looked over at the woman and couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her. He could see that she was fighting the panic that was surly raging in her veins. A shiver scaled down Snape's spine as another cry echoed in the hall. The abrupt stop seemed to be the trigger to throw all of the teachers into action. Poppy was the first out the door followed closely by Sprout and, surprisingly, Snape.

If the Great Hall was in pandemonium, the halls were utter chaos. Students were going this way and that, pointing in odd directions, trying to tell the teachers what they had seen and heard through their babbling. Pomfry had almost violently shoved her way through the crowd and could be seen running down one of the warded corridors. It was warded against students…and Harry wasn't one of them.

Madame Pomfry had exited the corridor a few minutes later carrying Harry out the muggle way. She had tucked his trembling form under her chin and hid him from the view of the other students. It wasn't that hard to hide his body either. She had tucked her apron around his shoulders, his outer robe probably still somewhere in that hall. Her face was pulled taut and she looked very menacing. Something life-changing had apparently been done. No one stood in her way as she marched to the infirmary.

Whispers and speculations followed in their wake. Some of them were just as absurd as those that didn't even begin make sense. Dumbledore exited the Great Hall and called order to the ones outside. He had the students rounded up and set to their common rooms with their prefects heading and ending the groups. The teachers were stationed periodically at entrances and exits, watching for stray students or those who couldn't leave the situation alone. Albus walked over to Snape and gave the man a pointed look. He already knew what the old man was going to ask before he asked it.

Snape glared, "Absolutely not."

x.X.x

**A/N:**

This chapter is dedicated to sweatdrop. Thanks for all the encouragement and joy. This probably would not have been out for another week if you never pointed out how late I post already. All the Harry abuse in this chapter is for you sweetie. \( ^ w ^ )/

This chapter was probably 1k words more than I originally wanted it, but that worked out okay as I broke the hospital scene from this chapter. That will go into chapter three as well as the surprise I have in store for all you wonderful readers.

Chapter three: Surprise! Harry speaks for the first time and makes a friend...and a whole lot of new enemies. Snape helps him with that though because, who likes a mad Madame Pomfry?


	4. And Until You Understand The Difference

_**Disclaimer:**__ You really want to read about my obnoxious plight?_

x.X.x

_**And Until You Understand the Basics**_

x.X.x

Severus regretted that he had ever walked into the room.

It felt like a mother dragon whose egg had been damaged was on a rampage through the infirmary. Poppy was everywhere and nowhere all at once. She had situated Harry into what she had dubbed "his bed" more or less. It bothered them all that Harry was in the infirmary so much already that he had earned his own bed there. Poppy had begun to throw a fit somewhere in the middle of her list of casting the diagnostics charms. She had to go and sit in her office for a few moments to calm down, Severus taking over for the moment. He had a sneaking suspicion that she went and had a break-down. No one had ever seen the matron so upset over anything like this before.

Harry had been set into the bed that was fourth from the door on the left. He had been shaking uncontrollably and scratching at his skin as if trying to tear it off. His eyes were closed, but one could still see the near desperation there on his face. He had bitten through his bottom lip and blood trickled down his chin. Bruises and scratches were the most prominent things to be seen, but the cause of the clawing was not.

Snape froze in his movements when he heard a mumbling come from the bed. When it didn't come again, Snape continued with the scans. It had to have been his imagination. He briefly wondered what had Poppy in tears when the boy didn't come up as violated in any way. His answer came quickly and it shocked him so much more than the violation thought had. Could it be? He cast the spell again. There it was. Now that he'd seen it, he could have killed himself for not seeing it earlier.

"Pop–" The Potions Master was cut off as the matron rushed in with multiple potions' vials in her hands.

"Hold him still."

Severus held tightly to the too thin shoulders, his hands holding the too boyish face. Poppy pried Harry's clenched teeth open and carefully poured potion after potion into the orifice. Harry gagged and choked, trying valiantly to spit out the watery substance. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly; his mouth snapping shut the minute Poppy let go. The prickling feeling eased a bit before Harry realized that Poppy had given him potions meant to help; not harm.

Snape released his hold on Harry who was no longer scratching at his hands and arms. Madame Pomfry gave him a sympathetic look and pulled out her wand; healing the scratches. Severus' hands were still a little red, positive Harry had a vicious side in him, but it would fade in a few minutes. Harry grunted and moaned, turning on his side away from the Mediwitch and professor. He cradled his head in his hands and attempted to burrow in the sheets.

"Harry…what is it Harry?" The Mediwitch sat on the bed; a very unprofessional thing to do.

"_Needles_…" Harry hissed.

Staring at the boy in shock Severus spat, "I thought you said that he couldn't talk."

A calming and numbing spell was cast and then, "He can't."

"I'm not deaf, Pomfry. I heard him. That…that was _Parseltongue_!"

"Well then," Poppy snapped, "If you haven't noticed—he didn't _speak_; he _hissed_," she reached over to untangle Harry from the sheets.

"Same thing!"

"It bloody well is not!"

"Well then, whatever you want to call it–"

"Do you not think that you are too old to be arguing about such nonsense things? You even have a patient who needs his rest."

The Mediwitch glared at the Headmaster for all she was worth as he walked in the infirmary; chastising them like children. The Potions Master merely glared into the bed Harry lay on. It wasn't that he wouldn't glare at the Headmaster; it was probably because he wouldn't be able to stop. Minerva was behind him, her face pulled tightly in a scowl. She looked quite threatening with some of her hair falling stray from her severe bun it was usually kept in. Albus chuckled at his hostile staff members and conjured a nice fluffy chair next to the foot of Harry's bed.

"How are you feeling, my boy?"

"Albus," McGonagall started, "He doesn't speak."

"He does," Snape griped.

Poppy glared, "He does not."

Harry looked down at the Headmaster. Despite the fact that he may indeed make a good grandfather, he was nothing of the sort to Harry. He wasn't anything to Harry. Dumbledore may be a good guy somewhere inside, but Harry still had yet to see it. There was a dark feeling towards the man somewhere in the back of his throat, but Harry was too reluctant to put a name to it; to whatever might waver what little good thought he had towards Dumbledore. McGonagall, he didn't mind so much. She was just doing things as she thought right. She didn't favor any one student over the other unless in some such extreme cases; such as himself. He could easily trust the woman if he tried. Her worried, stern and caring nature touched him in a grandparent-aunt kind of way. While it wasn't as deep as Poppy's, she was still in the running for third place.

The Headmaster continued on like Harry had spoken, "That's good. For a moment, I thought something irreparable had been done." Incredulous looks were spared to him then, "I would like to punish these students, but unfortunately, they have not been released as of now," Madame Pomfry threw a disgusted look at the side of Dumbledore's head, "But do not fear, the ministry will be coming tomorrow to check the student's wands. I trust that you stay out of their way and not cause anything to happen that may result in a negative over the case. Now, if you will, I must have a word with your care provider."

The instant the word 'care provider' left the Headmaster's lips, Harry's hands shot up and spelled the word 'mother' into the air. Behind the Headmaster, someone gasped. Harry's hands trembled from exhaustion as they were held in the 'pick me up' motion. Madame Pomfry frowned at Dumbledore and went to scoop up her ward. "Whatever you say can be said around Harry as well. He has done nothing wrong here."

A strange look passed over Dumbledore's face, "Alright. I concede," he leaned forward in his seat and began to outline his plans, "I believe Mr. Potter here should be with an adult at all times. If he is not with an adult, then a Prefect or the Head boy or girl should be with him. We cannot have him wandering the school alone."

"You can't be serious," Poppy deadpanned, "He's fine on his own."

"Yes, he was so fine tonight." Severus snipped.

"This is his first time with all the students in the castle. He was overwhelmed." Poppy defended, "Besides, no one had to look after him before—during the summer."

"What if it was a Prefect, Albus?" Minerva cut in, "We haven't caught the culprits yet and it could be anyone!"

Albus sighed, "It wasn't."

"How would you know?!" McGonagall raged, "You believe in the good of everyone! It could have been your Head Boy for all we know!"

McGonagall must have been scared beyond wit's end if she could find it in herself to yell at the old geezer. The matron turned to Severus as Minerva continued to argue with Albus. She asked him quietly, "Will you watch him during the day?"

Snape didn't like to admit it, but he would do almost anything for Poppy. She was like his savior—his mother—when he was at Hogwarts. She believed him even when the Headmaster refused to do so. The real reason he stocked the infirmary was not because he had to, it was because Poppy asked him to. She could easily make most of the potions herself or order them like she was supposed to. The only thing she orders now is just more than the average amount of infirmary potion ingredients for him.

While it wasn't shocking that she was asking him to look after the brat in her arms, it still irked him that it was Potter. He stared at the back of the bed-mussed head and noticed the subtle tensing of his shoulders. What a strange little boy. Perhaps he would benefit a bit from watching over the squirt. Still… "No. Absolutely not."

"Stop staring at him like that!" Poppy reprimanded before she responded with a quiet, "Thank you, Severus."

_**x.X.x** …Such sweet sadness in your eyes… **x.X.x**_

Morning came swiftly, the dew beading on the window sills and a fresh earthy scent blew through the nonexistent window glass throughout the castle. Harry slowly opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He was not longer in the infirmary; he wasn't even in his own room that was attached to the matron's. The ceiling above him had a greenish tint that made it look like water had stained the surface one too many times. The fireplace in the corner looked like perhaps it had seen one too many winters with its fires happily crackling in its grates.

Rolling his eyes to the left, he noted that the walls were almost in the same condition as the ceiling and that there were no windows. His dressing table and trunk were located at the foot of the bed across the room. Rolling his eyes to the right, he noted the nightstand that held a single lamp and a couple of books that he was used to reading during the night. It was something that Snape had gotten him for his ninth birthday and the other was something the matron had given him to pass time with.

Harry slowly sat up, mentally noting the pain in his ribcage area and the weakness in his limbs. Memories of the night came flooding back to him making him tremble beneath the sheets. His magic frantically searched out the matron in the unfamiliar room space. He couldn't feel her anywhere except for the small traces that she had been there at one point. Crawling to the foot of the bed, Harry looked over the edge to the floor. A deep moss carpet met his gaze and though it looked soft, Harry had a feeling that it would open up and swallow him whole. Where was Poppy and why wasn't she there with him? Did he do something wrong?

Tears welled up in his eyes. Harry slid back to the headboard and tucked himself under the quilts. He curled into a ball and tried to fight back the tears that had not yet fallen. Poppy would never abandon him. Not like this. He tucked his head into his arms and silently wept to himself with frozen tears. The matron would never have left him in an unfamiliar place without telling him first…right?

With that thought, Harry stuck his hand under the many pillows on the bed. If Poppy ever left him with someone overnight or she had to be somewhere before he awoke the next day, she would leave him a small note under his pillow. She used to leave it on top of the pillows but soon found that to be inconvenient when the school occasionally decided to let wind through its charmed, glassless windows.

Harry pulled his hand back, pulling a slip of parchment with it. On one side was a note written in the matron's barely legible handwriting, on the other, was a hand-drawn moving image of a dragon…well…it looked like one. Harry smiled at her attempt to draw the beautiful beast. Wiping the tears and sleep from his eyes, he pulled the quilt a bit, enough to make a sliver of light glow on the paper.

_Harry,_

_I left you with Professor Snape last night. You will stay with him for the duration of the week (with no tears) so that Professor McGonagall may have some peace of mind about your safety. If you need anything and I mean __**anything**__ don't hesitate to fire-call or have Severus fire-call me. I plead that you don't run the man haggard or get on his nerves._

_I left two books on the nightstand at your disposal. You still have free reign of the library before and after hours, but if you need to get into the restricted section, you must request a pass from Professor Snape. Keep up your studies and don't forget to eat! Remember, we want to get into Hogwarts, yes? And if not that, we will become the greatest Healer ever known. I will see you soon._

_Love,_

_Poppy_

Hazarding a look from beneath the quilt and saw dark splotches beneath his door where the light came through. Someone was standing there. Two some ones to be exact as he heard two voices conversing on the other side. He recognized both voices instantly, the rich baritone was Professor Snape and the softer more feminine, but strong, voice belonged to Poppy. He tucked the quilt around his arms, leaving only enough space to look through with one eye as the door opened.

"Harry?" Poppy's voce called into the dimly lit room.

Snape stood in the doorway behind her, "It's nine. He should be awake by now. I will not allow for this child to sleep in and skip breakfast every day."

"Oh, shush, Severus. He usually is awake by six and reading over something or another. Besides, he's already awake," the matron directed her next sentence to Harry, "Which he shouldn't be and moving around like he's not in pain."

"How can you even tell if that lump's awake?" Severus grouched, indicating the lump Harry made in the quilts.

The mediwitch pointed to a small opening in the tower of quilts that had an emerald eye staring out from it at them. It blinked once before disappearing briefly. Out of the small opening, a slip of paper was pushed out before the eye took its place back in front of the opening.

Poppy sighed and walked over to the bed, talking calmly to Harry as if he was talking back, "Good morning, Harry. How are you feeling? I know you must still be sore from yesterday. You passed out you know," she un-tucked the quilts from around the small boy and lay him out straight. Harry curled back into a ball again and the matron, with all the patience in the world, laid him back out flat. Harry didn't curl up again, "I know you're upset with me, but you must understand Harry…I will have students in and out of the infirmary everyday and sometimes all day. You told me just yesterday that you wanted to start your training in Mediwizardry, did you not?" Harry nodded his head, "Well, there you have it. Severus will be glad to teach you. If not, then he will happily allow you into his lessons so that you may pick up things on your own, okay?"

By the time she was done speaking, she had thoroughly checked over Harry and had him clean, dressed and ready for the day. He was dressed in a calm green shirt and black slacks. His hair was combed neatly out of his eyes, he'd probably need it to be cut soon, and he wore clean white socks. It made him look…distinguished—like a proper young boy rather than the scruffy thing he'd seen that was first pulled from beneath the blankets.

"You know, I had the nicest child come into my office this morning," The matron was speaking softly to Harry as he helped her straighten his bed to be presentable, "He had seen the picture of you on my desk and he wishes to meet you…no, don't be like that Harry. I'm sure he'd still want to be your friend no matter how shy you are," the mediwitch smiled softly and stood up, "You must stop by and meet him later today."

"Stop encouraging the boy, Poppy," Severus groused, "I cannot tolerate this child, much less two."

"Nonsense, you tolerate hundreds of them every day!"

"Yes," Snape acquiesced, "But only in the controlled environment of the classroom where they fear me. I will not have these children thinking I've gone soft."

The matron rolled her eyes and kneeled down to hug Harry tightly, "Well, I must be off now. Be sure to visit me. The infirmary is quite lonely without you."

With that, Madame Pomfry left, leaving Harry and Severus alone. For the first time, Snape allowed his eyes to examine the room. It was simple, dark and quiet. It strangely suited the boy although Severus saw the boy in a more brightly lit room with high windows…something akin to Gryffindor tower. He shuddered at the thought of a room like that being in his quarters.

He looked down at Harry, "Well, come along. Surly you cannot stay in here all day."

To be honest, it still kind of irked Snape that Harry would follow orders blindly. This would get him in trouble one day if he didn't grow out of it. Two years in a normal environment still had not cured this deficiency and Severus knew that the staff feared that this may be something permanent that he'd have to live with for the rest of his life. They even tried to not give direct orders to the boy.

Severus sat at his dining table where breakfast was waiting. Harry took a cautious seat across from the older man and waited for Snape to begin eating before he began to eat his routine morning toast slice. Snape had finished his meal and waited for Harry to finish. He ate so slowly that it was almost painful just for Severus to watch him.

When he finished, Severus sent the boy to go get his books because he would be spending the day with Poppy. Honestly, how that woman could see Severus acting as a guardian to a boy like Harry, was pure blasphemy. Sure, Harry was quiet, but he was too quiet that it scared him sometimes.

When Harry came back with his books in hand, Severus motioned him to the door with a glare on his face. Harry glared back and in pure spite, he marched up to the Potions Master and grasped his hand. Snape shook his hand fiercely to get Harry to let go, but the boy persisted.

"Unhand me this instant, you infernal boy!" Snape growled.

Harry held on tightly and even clutched the hand to his chest with his books. This had Severus bending over slightly in order to not to pull Harry off of his feet. Harry smiled triumphantly when Snape stopped trying to pull his hand away and began to walk out of the door instead.

To the students who saw Snape and Harry on their way to the infirmary, they immediately assumed that the man had a son. Severus thoroughly enjoyed himself as he doled out detentions to many students like candy on Halloween. The students all scurried away like rats or roaches, not intending to get more detentions from the dour man than necessary. They knew better to dwell on the subject.

He pushed open the doors to the infirmary and viciously yanked Harry in by the hand that he still held. Harry grunted at the force and glared up at Severus who only offered the boy an evil smirk in return, "Poppy!"

"Yes?" Poppy came out from her medicine closet putting vials into her pocket, "What brings you here?"

"Don't be daft Poppy," Snape snarled, "You take him. I have class this morning and I refuse to take this cretin with me."

Poppy noticed then that Harry had linked his hand with Severus' and was clutching it to his chest like one of his books. She smiled inwardly as she held out her hand for Harry to take—which he did, immediately releasing Severus and attaching himself to her.

Snape stormed out of the hospital wing then, his black robe snapping out behind him. He paused once in his endeavor to briefly look over the potions stocks in the closet that Poppy had left open.

"I honestly can't see why you like to rile the man so much. What purpose does this serve?" Madame Pomfry sighed, "Well, time to get back to work. Go wash up and put on your Infirmary garb."

Harry nodded and rushed off to do as told. When he came back, Poppy handed him pre-set amounts of certain potions and directed him to different beds where they would be distributed. Harry complied, finally coming to a bed where the occupant was asleep. This must be the boy Madame Pomfry told him about seeing as this _was_ the only boy in the infirmary at this time.

Placing the small measured cup of potion down on the nightstand Harry proceeded to wake the boy. The said boy had a dark sandy-blonde hair that was almost brown in a way, and fair complexion, like he went outside a lot. He was average-sized and even while laying down sleeping, made Harry feel inferior in size. One final shake had the boy waking groggily.

"Wha…?"

_**x.X.x**_

Cedric.

The boy had went and made friends with Cedric Diggory. It was either that or Cedric took it upon himself to befriend the quiet boy. How that happened, no one but Poppy would ever know since it _did_ happen in the time that Cedric was in the infirmary. Harry still refused to sit still for long periods or "talk" to the older boy, but he still acknowledged the presence there.

Their friendship progressed from there. Cedric wasn't an outspoken person, but he could sometimes be found having a one-sided conversation with the small boy wonder. Harry never replied or made any motion to suggest that he had heard, but by the time he had turned ten—going on eleven—he had begun to respond to some of the conversations.

Severus watched guardedly as the small boy moved calmly about the room to gather together the supplies for the day's potion. He was sitting with Diggory again and was gathering separate supplies for his own potion. Instead of going to the students' work cabinet; he went to the small storage shelf that Dumbledore had the castle put in. Dumbledore had told Snape to trust that the boy knew what he was doing. That old man must have been out of his mind to put half the things that he had on that shelf: dragon scales and fiend fyre. Trust him? Snape took it upon himself to ward the case to alert him whenever Harry was using a particularly dangerous ingredient.

If Snape were any other man, he would never have recognized the ingredients for a potentially dangerous healing potion. It was _very_ advanced for a first year, but even more so for a no year, and entirely too dangerous to brew all on his own. It used dragon scales for one. Severus had seen this boy whip up batch after batch of this same potion for the past two weeks. He had made enough to stock the Infirmary enough to heal the entire population of Hogwarts for at least a couple of months.

Harry began placing all the ingredients neatly in rows according to how and when each ingredient went in. If everything went according to plan, then the boy-who-lived and half the school should be in need of this. If everything went as planned, then Snape would need this as well. Harry looked up at Snape through his lashes, slowing to a stop in his movements. His white snake which all of the staff dubbed "Winter" lifted its head to look at Snape. What sympathy Harry's look did not give, Winter's did.

Harry began his movements again and in the distance Snape was pretty sure he heard someone screaming. He looked up just in time to see Minerva walk swiftly into the room. She stopped by his desk, her back facing the children and she whispered so low that Severus could barely make out what she said.

"Poppy needs you in the infirmary that instant."

Snape glared and dismissed his class. He spotted Harry still at his worktable, with that damnable Diggory child with him. Harry was still working on his potion. Snape sneered and exited the classroom.

"What happened?"

Minerva was in step with him, their fast pace liking merely like a natural walk, "I don't know. It's some type of infection."

"Like Dragon Pox?"

"No." McGonagall glared at a couple of students that were loitering in the halls, "It's something far more serious—potentially dangerous."

"Do we know anything about it?"

"Nothing except that it's Dark and affects only a certain age group and…physical traits."

"Physical traits? Minerva, there has to be more to it than that."

"There's nothing! Only boys between the ages of ten and eighteen are in the infirmary with this thing. Poppy's doing her best to help them, but the potion can only do so much at one time."

"Potion?" Minerva handed him a small vial of a burgundy-colored potion.

Severus faltered in his steps for a brief moment. Harry had been making the same potion for the past couple of weeks.

* * *

**A/N:**

I know this is late, but I have a reasonable excuse. Some of you may be able to relate to this as well...maybe not the pineapple but probably in the same situation with some other fruit or vegetable or something.

Ugh…okay, so I was cutting up a pineapple with these huge knife and managed to cut the tips off a few of my fingers. It was disgusting, painful and full of hell. I had to replace the bandages at least nine times a day if I didn't want blood to be dripping down onto my laptop keys. Trust me, "search and peck" is not the way to go, but it was hell to try and type any other way.

This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Sweatdrop and all you wonderful people who keep up with this (even if you don't review). Thanks to my wonderful alerted readers. And since I'm all laid out and on the mend so much that I can type a little, I'll draw up some art for y'all. I already drew some, but it was nothing related to what I'am writing right now.

Really, though, don't forget to review any story. It really brings us much joy as writers and makes us want to continue to write for you all.

* * *

**Next:** A little time jump and things get interesting. The TriWizard Tournament and an insight on a few relationships as well. Harry grows up and we begin to see just how curruptive words can be. Dances, deceit and a few new faces. Enter the chapter as the Boy-Who-Lived comes to Hogwarts.

**Excerpt:** _Harry looked on sadly as Amos Diggory hugged his son for the last time; alive. He held on to Cedric like he knew something bad was going to happen but he just couldn't place what. Cedric turned to Harry and smiled. Knowing he couldn't bring a smile to his face, Harry hugged tightly to Cedric before the older boy could see his err. _


End file.
